


Heart of Gold

by Duchesse



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Humor, M/M, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romance, Self-Insert, gender-neutral, in which yellow wine is super tsundere while protecting the master attendant ayyyy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 06:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16034960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duchesse/pseuds/Duchesse
Summary: When a trade with airship pilots goes awry and they try to scam you, Yellow Wine couldn’t quite understand why he stepped in to your defense.[Yellow Wine | Reader (Master Attendant)].





	Heart of Gold

**Author's Note:**

> this was a request for someone on tumblr. she ended up making two pieces of art based off of this.

“This… this isn’t what we agreed to.”

His coarse fingertips scuffed the porcelain cup in his hands, drops of the sheer liquid inside sloshed onto his skin the more he swirled it. Describing how he felt when your voice trailed, brittle and withering like leaves at autumn, felt too tedious to consider. The sensation built in his chest, festering and hot; he heard his teeth click as he set his jaw.

When he traced his eyes upward, you were just managing to keep the grasp on the clipboard, the hastily scrawled supply lists had already unfastened from the clamp and skittered across the ground with the breath of the wind. He thought your skin lost some radiance just then, your eyes flitting distressingly from the airship owners to your papers now drifting into the sea.

“I don’t have that much pork loin. I was told you needed three cases. Th-that’s all I had the time to prepare. I don’t–who–are you sure you needed  _eight_?” your words were jumbled as your thoughts, clearly unsure of how to remedy this situation. “That much pork loin will take me weeks to get. Can’t we exchange for just the three?”

Yellow Wine rolled his tongue across his teeth, finding his thirst and intrigue in his recently developed wine waning as his frustration burned his ears. Honestly, he had come along with you at your stupid request; giving some bull spiel at bonding and grabbing lunch afterwards.

It was just bogus to him, an utter waste of time–so he pretended it was a bodyguard mission. At least he knew he was actually capable of protecting you compared to the other food souls, no doubt they’d like you fall off the pier or get kidnapped.

“Listen, we communicated very well with you. We clearly requested eight cases of pork loin.” One of the pilots insisted, stamping his walking cane into the cobblestone with a hollow thunk. “If you cannot provide the other five cases, we cannot give you payment.”

He thought he saw you quivering now, tip of your tongue tracing your lower lip. Even he could tell that they had you backed into a corner, and you didn’t know how to get out of it. 

But, you weren’t wrong.

As ridiculous–as impossibly hopeless as you were, you were meticulous and renown in your craft for a reason. These shits were trying to scam you, and your lack of backbone was aiding them in exactly that.

“I… I mean–I don’t remember that. I mean, don’t get me wrong. You could be right, but–”

He had enough. With the crisp autumn air came the wisps of white fog that came as he exhaled heavily, gripping the rim of his cup as he tromped over to you. When he draped his arm across your shoulder, unbalancing you as well as silencing your weak-ass apology, he jabbed a finger in the direction of the two men.

“Listen here, you pig-headed sacks of shit, you clearly don’t know how to count because the invoices said three cases.” Yellow Wine shivered as the wine splashed onto his palm as he swung his hand around. “How stupid can you be? Or, are you thinking you could get away with your little scam? Want to take the three cases and pay up, or would you like to step off to the side here and  _discuss it_?”

The older man with the walking cane was quick to recant, showing his palms in submission. “Now, now, now! We don’t need trouble from any food souls. Surely, it is something we can overlook just this once! Right, Laslo?”

And the accomplice pilot, a rather portly fellow, showed a dazzling smile and mirrored the other. “Ah, ha-ha! Of course, of course. Now, surely we could have made a mistake. I do apologize for our attitudes and holding up your time. We shall be away!”

Your jaw fell slack, the clipboard hanging by your fingertips at one side as the men scrambled into the airship and locked the cargo haul. Even once the air cleared of the dark smog from the exhausts, the air settled, and you were left alone at his his side, you said nothing.

Nothing. Nothing at all.

You had some nerve.

With a grunt, he rolled his eyes heavenward and gave you a light swat on the back of the head as he removed his arm from your shoulder. “Stupid! Just how many times am I gonna have to save your ass? Can’t you get a backbone?”

You didn’t react much to him, simply mustering a weary glare that faltered beneath his own. “Look. I’m trying. I’m  _trying_  to be better. I just–mom passed away suddenly, I don’t know how to do any of this! Invoicing? Dealing with distributors and salesmen? I don’t know any of that crap!”

Smacking his lips, Yellow Wine finally took his first sip of his drink and savored the taste on his tongue and the tingle in his cheeks. “Well, it’s obviously not good enough, is it? Like– just because you’re trying doesn’t mean you’re giving it your all.”

He was startled then to see your eyebrows shoot up, scoffing incredulously as you jostled him as you passed. “Why are you like this, Yellow Wine? You help me out, you’re nice for like two seconds and then you’re a dick! You’re so hot-and-cold.”

The cup nearly slipped from his hand at your outburst, seeing your mood shift so exponentially and because of him at that. Just moments ago you were on the brink of tears, nearly a blubbering mess and now this. 

When he said to grow a backbone, he didn’t mean it at this very second.

Something like this wouldn’t have jarred him in the past, he didn’t understand his own feelings as he lunged after you and reeled you back a bit to forcibly against him. “Hey, hey! Just wait a sec, stu–I mean, like, just listen! I didn’t mean it like that. You’re obviously picking up all the pieces after you mom just went and kaput. Everyone notices it, y’know?”

Although the annoyance still burned fiercely in your eyes, and your face tightened, you weren’t trying to get away. “Everyone… notices what?”

“Notice? Well, y’know. They-they notice stuff.” Yellow Wine cleared his throat, slamming back the rest of his drink to buy enough time to come up with something else. “Damn, what a bother. How do you not know what I mean? They notice the stuff you do, how… hard you work and stuff. Stop asking me.”

He felt heat crawling up his neck towards his cheeks, it was stupid. He didn’t get why it was so hard to tell you something so trivial, nor the flutter in his heart when he saw a smile stretch across your lips.

When he cleared his throat again, he averted his face your from your gaze as he stuck his upside down cup in front of you. “Do you see this? It’s all your fault, stupid. You made me drink all of my wine before I could enjoy it.”


End file.
